Hit or Miss
by Two-faced
Summary: Hit or Miss. At random; haphazardly; to do something in awareness that one may succeed or fail.
1. Funny as a crutch

"Hit or Miss"  
by two-faced  
  
*~*~*  
I don't know why I made a Samurai Jack fic, so don't ask me why.  
*~*~*  
  
The rain came out of nowhere. Like an artillery of bullets and waterballoons crashing into the earth. His hat couldn't save him. In fact, he lost his hat between the gushing floods and the pelting shower. And here he stood, blade in hand, crouching in an agressive stance, getting ready to slice off any mechanical apendages.  
  
They charge. He slices. They flee.  
  
He sheathes his sword, glaring at the blurry figures of two alien beings retreating to some underground laboratory. You know, the usual. Away from the rain. Some place dry. Some place supposedly warm and supposedly comfortable.  
  
Jack sighed.  
  
He had tried the cave, but it had eroded before he could take a step towards the depressing recess. The trees did not offer much shelter. His hat was gone. So he trudged forwards. Onwards and onwards still, rain beating down relentlessly.  
  
His heart leapt at the sight of a two-story building ridden with bullet holes. From what he could make out, there were people drinking near the window. So it was either a bar, a restaurant or an inn. He thought of the latter--He'd seen more inns than anything else. The interesting events in his journey had mostly been in inns, most of which were named after a particular fictional (was it really?) reptile.  
  
Ye olde Turquiose Dragon. Hah. But he was too tired to smirk. Had he been un-righteous at the moment, he would've snorted too. But here he was, dripping, but relieved.  
  
He was also mighty relieved to see that the inhabitants of the Turquoise Dragon looked docile. Its barkeep was a green, old-looking extraterrestrial with tenticles instead of arms. He looked calmly at the newcomer, raised a scally eyebrow and went back to drying his beerglass. (As all animated barkeeps do.)  
  
No one seemed to mind his miserable, dripping state, so he sat down on one of the chairs and motioned for the barkeeper to come closer. He did so.  
  
"What can I get you, Mr. Outlaw?" he asked, although he didn't seem to care that he was one. Jack took notice of this.  
  
"Tea please. Or hot water." The samurai answered, voice faint from exhaustion. He looked at his soggy clothes and added, "...and a towel."  
  
The barkeep (probably innkeeper too) chuckled, filling a mug with clear, golden-brown liquid. He added a few drops of liquor before handing it to Jack, who sniffed suspiciously at the beverage.  
  
"It's brandy. It'll make you feel warmer."  
  
He finished it in three swallows while the barkeeper went into the kitchen to fetch a towel. After a while, he could feel his cheeks getting slightly warm and was beggining to ignore the trickles of water running down his back. There was a bittersweet aftertaste in his mouth, which he wasn't sure he liked or not. But it felt nice. ...Very stimulating. He swilred the last drop in his mug, watching it leave traces on white porcelain.  
  
The barkeep returned, tossing a medium-sized towel in his direction. He looked like he was about to say something else, but something got his attention. Jack busied himself with the towel, bending over to dry his hair.  
  
He heard footsteps, going down stairs, moving towards in a slow, leisurely pace. He heard yawning.  
  
"Mornin' sleeping beauty. How was yer nap?" he heard the barkeeper say.  
  
"Decent." came the sleepy reply. Jack felt a vibration on the table. The person had taken a seat a few chairs away. "Rain woke me up..." Then another yawn. "Gimme one of those strawberry 'lickers."  
  
"What is it with you and strawberries?"  
  
"Dunno. I like strawberries. I like fruit."  
  
"Keep that up son, and people'll start to think you were fruity!"  
  
The barkeep made a sound that sounded like a wheezing bicycle horn. Jacked realized he was laughing.  
  
"You'd be suprised." said the other.  
  
Jack looked up from his towelling. He was suprised to find a dishevelled man in a white yukata, looking at him in the corner of his eye. He was casually sipping his drink, ignoring the wisps of black hair that was falling down one side of his face. (Most of which was held up in an untidy ponytail.) He looked like he just woke up.  
  
And here he was expecting some outrageously beautiful lady in need of company.   
  
Jack blinked. Where did that come from?  
  
"Howdy." said the oriental man, tipping his glass to the other oriental man. Then, unexpectedly... "Kyoo wa otenki desu ne. Ame ga furidashita no da?"  
  
"S...Sou." Jack replied slowly, astounded. It was too...Bizarre.  
  
  
  
To be continued at my own leisure. 


	2. Going Bananas

"Hit or Miss"   
by Two-faced  
  
~*~*~  
The rating has been upped due to story's colorful descriptions. You have been warned. Thank you for the reviews. Comments are at the end of the story. Enjoy.  
~*~*~  
  
Chapter two: 'Going Bananas'; To feel cooped up or driven to distraction; to claim one is going out of one's mind because of the situation.  
  
  
Jack continued to stare at his slightly younger counterpart. The other man merely smiled, his sips turning into quaffs. The Barkeeper seemed to be engaged in a conversation with a fellow alien customer.  
  
Had he really heard that? It was very long time since someone had spoken to him in his native tongue. "Ano...Mou ichido itte kudasai." He asked the strange man. He had to make sure.  
  
"Soto wa sonna ni samui desu ka?" the man replied instead.   
  
Of course it was still cold outside. Was this guy numb or something? Jack was still rather confused, though. "Mou ichido, onegai."  
  
"Soto wa sonna ni samui da." The man repeated.  
  
"Motto yukkuri itte kudasai."  
  
"So-to. Wa. So-na. Ni. Samui. Da." He said again, slowly.  
  
Jack looked incredulously at him.  
  
"Nihongo ga dekimasu ka?" he asked after a small period of silence.  
  
"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" the srtanger answered, albeit he did not seem offended. If anything, his lips curled into a wry grin.   
  
"I am sorry. It has been ages since I have heard anyone speak my launguage. It sounds nearly alien to me."  
  
"So it's true then," The man shifted his weight unto the table. "what they say about you."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"That you're from the past and shit. Nihongo isn't a common language, y'know. Practically extinct if you're not from Zoiyouka."  
  
"Zoiyouka...?"  
  
"Still basically nihongo, but massively corrupted. I was speaking fuckin' old tongue back there, pardon my french."  
  
Jack looked at him puzzledly. "You were not speaking french."  
  
"It's a term." said the other, fidgeting with his empty glass. "Y'know, like 'hang loose' or 'Rain or Shine'. You get my drift?"  
  
Jack was about to comment that he did not understand this 'drift', but decided against that. There were a lot of things in this world he did not understand, and English idioms were one of them. Just who the hell was this person?  
  
The aformentioned person was yawning, scratching a portion of his lower back. He turned to the barkeeper, saying "Yo pops!" After succesfully grabbing the elder alien's attention he continued, "Can I get Hamashi back yet?"   
  
"Hell no! I'm forever banning that...that thing! Inside my inn."  
  
"But I miss my baby!" He whined, elongating the vowels in the last word, making it sound like baaaaaayyybeeee. His half-hearted attempt to annoy the barkeeper failed to work.   
  
"You can get get it back when you get the hell out of here. I'm starting to get sick of you!"   
  
The other man groaned, burying his head into his folded arms. "Did they send you a package yet? Paper bag, red string."  
  
"No."  
  
Another groan. "Well I'm staring to get sick of camping here too. I'm not some goddamn delivery boy. You sure?"  
  
"Do I look like a postal office?" The barkeep tossed back, tenticles akimbo.  
  
"You look postal." The strange man offered. The barkeep made a resigned gesture and headed inside the kitchen.  
  
...At the same time, five or so bounty hunters entered the inn looking mighty pissed.   
  
"Which one of you runts is Samurai Jack?!" one of the porkier ones demanded. He was met with cold silence from either of the two japanese-looking individuals.  
  
Two?  
  
One soggy samurai, and another sleepy looking one.He blinked. He rubbed his eyes. He was still seeing double. He looked at his fellow hunters. They seemed to be doing the same thing. They were all dumbfounded.   
  
"I thinks it one of 'em whachamacallit...enchantments." whispered a simpleton lizard to the obese leader. The rest, who were all mechanical, agreed, nodding their heads repeatedly.  
  
Both men held perfectly still. Both saying nothing. Both calculating. Both with a dangerous hint of a glare in their eyes.  
  
The lizard attempted to escape quietly, but the Porky had gotten hold of his neck and was wringing the poor reptile. "It's MAGIC!" It screamed, wriggling in his hands.  
  
"It's a goddamn trick I tells ye! KILL 'EM BOTH!!" screamed the leader, raising his rifle into the air.  
  
It happened all of a sudden. Jack rolled to the left, while the other sprinted to the right, diving behind a table. Bullets smashed into glass and woodwork Sloppy, but efficient. The sound deafening, but curiously exciting. Alcohol spilling everywhere, its scent filling the room. Outside, the rain blasted down like nobody's business.  
  
Jack went for the blue metal-freak, one slice to the leg, then he kicked him in the middle, thrusting him down into the stone floor. On the other side of the room, he could see the stranger break off the legs of a table, using them as makeshift clubs. He tested it on a nearby reptillian. It worked.  
  
"I'll start with the fleshy ones. Go for the machines!" He said to Jack while twisting the lizard's hand, making him drop his stun-gun.  
  
Jack did so. Went for two of them. Cut them clean in half. You know, the kind of cut that doesn't bleed? That clean. Samurai magic, I tell you.  
  
The other dude didn't make a bad fighter either. He quickly finished off Porky, then in a cruel sort of way, smashed both clubs against the side of his head and then shoved them against his snout.   
  
Now, Old Pops wasn't deaf. He knew there was going to be trouble the moment he heard those hunters come in. Muddy fucking boots and all. He wished he were. Damn noise was getting to him. Lesee, to help or not to help. Help of course, but who? Some stranger with a an insanely big price on his head, Or a couple of insane bounty hunters? Maybe he'd just kill all of them--not only would it give him peace, but he'd be filthy, stinking rich too. Where'd he put those pistols again?  
  
Most of them were down. There was one mechanical schmuck left, the one with its leg sawed off. Robots don't usually look scared, but this one looked damn well terrified. It scrambled off, screaming for its mother.  
  
"I did not think robots had mothers." wondered Jack aloud. The other man sniggered.  
  
"They'll be back." he said, stretching.  
  
They heard a resounding boom outside. The house shook.  
  
"Too soon."  
  
Both men ran frantically to windows, and tore off the curtains.   
  
It was one of those damned giant mechas. The little bastard had called in reinforcements.  
  
"Jesus fucking christ." the stranger muttered.  
  
The dishevelled man turned and stormed into the kitchen. Then he ran back in again.  
  
"Whoah! Take it easy, pops!"  
  
Apparantly, Old Pops had found his guns. One for eash tenticle. All seven of them. "Don't 'pops' me, boy. Now hold still so this old man'll have a clear shot at your dick."  
  
"That's my head, pops."  
  
"I know, dickhead."  
  
"Ha ha. You're killing me."  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Well before you do, take a good look out the window."   
  
"Indeed, a mechanical monstrosity is rapidly approaching your inn." Jack added helpfully.  
  
And just like that, the old barkeep dropped his seven colt 45's. "Great mother Teresita..." he sobbed. "I'm ruined!"  
  
"Hey. Chin up, old timer. It's us they're looking for." The man placed a consoling hand on the alien's shoulder...I think. "We'll lead them away from the inn."  
  
What do you mean 'us'? said Jack in the back of his head. But he had a good heart. He'd help someone in need, as usual. Gullible idiot.  
  
"Sounds crazy enough to work!" said the barkeep animatedly. (Although strawberry man could have said 'let's all pretend to be proffesional male prostitues and sell oursleves to the black market and make shitloads of pornographic material!', and he'd still say the same thing. A curious thing alien 'toons are.)  
  
"Great! Oh, another thing..." said the man, "...Can I have Hamashi back?"  
  
"Oh, sure. It's in the back.Can't miss it."the barkeeper replied, looking dazed.  
  
The man grinned all the way to the cellar. He emerged, holding a long wing-shaped object wrapped in bandages possesively in his hands. The look on his face showed pure bliss. Jack's eyebrow went into orbit.  
  
The mech was nearly upon them as they sprinted towards the forest. It shot cannons sporadically, some of them exploding on the Turquiose Dragon. Jack winced, picking up the pace. The man behind him was grinning from ear to ear.  
  
The rain came down harder than ever. Puddles of water reflected the flashes of light coming from lightning and random weaponfire. But amidst the howling storm, you could just make out the sounds of taunting laughter and frustrated shooting.  
  
  
To be continued...  
  
~*~*~  
Notes from the Author.  
  
The last chapter was chock full of annoying typographical errors.I will try to avoid them in the future. I'm using note pad on my laptop, so don't tell me to check my spellchecker.   
  
Anyway, to the people who reviewed:  
  
Xianji ~ Thank you, I will take my sweet time.  
  
ZephyrSamba ~ Thanks, I had written this story out of nowhere, but I liked how it came out, so I posted it.  
  
TurtleNinja ~ Who did you think it was, pray tell? I'm really curious. My japanese isn't that perfect, but yes, that's basically what he said. I wasn't able to read your fanfics, yet. I'll take a look at them when I've got time. 


	3. Out on a Limb

Hit and Miss   
by Two-faced  
  
*~*~*   
Characters whose names you might not recognize belong to me. The rest is self-explanatory. Mature themes, watch out for the language. Thank you for the reviews, comments are again on the bottom. Enjoy.  
*~*~*  
  
Chapter three  
'Out on a Limb': In an exposed or dangerous position.  
  
By now, the rain had cleared up a bit, yet the sky still looked like a swirling bowl of day-old oatmeal. Not a pretty sight. Down is where you'll want to look. Water on green vegetation, collecting on the emerald leaves, dew-kissed flowers, enhancing the breath-taking beauty of the forest. Truly a perfect scene...  
  
...Which is about to change very drastically.  
  
Two hundred tones of titanium alloy crushing, pulverizing the forest floor! Stomp! Squish! Squash! Squelch! Smash! Smush! Just about every destructive S's you could think of! Woe to the family of rabbits in their unearthly numbers! Woe to the now-extinct Begonia, completely obliterated by the hideous blue behemoth! Its massive steps echoing throughout the entire area. (I love being me.)  
  
The mech exits the small clearing, leaving it in a sorry state. All but a hollow tree log remains. As the heavy stomping noise grows fainter and fainter, we hear two relieved sighs emitting from said log. Typical.  
  
Inside, we find our two heroes safe, but not entirely pleased by the outcome. They are uncomfortable, unwittingly pressed together in the most scandalous, unholy positions.  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Yes...?"  
  
"This never happened."  
  
"...I whole-heartedly agree."  
  
"Good. Let's get outta here."  
  
They move simultaneously. Not wise.  
  
"No! Stop! Stop!"  
  
A hiss.  
  
"I'll let you out, but let *me* go first!"  
  
Jack nodded, feeling terribly embarrassed about the accident. His embarrassment turned into horror at the growing heat in his nether regions. He tried to back up, but ended up tripping on his legs and involuntarily grabbing the other man's ass.  
  
"Sorry!" he stammered, wishing for a planetary holocaust and the sky to cave in.  
  
"S'okay. I don't think any of us could've prevented that." the other muttered through clenched teeth.  
  
It got worse as the man continued to wiggle out of the log. Jack felt utter humiliation; wracking his brain for the most ugly, most appalling thoughts he could think of. He thought of the Scotsman's wife. It didn't work.  
  
At last, the other managed to wriggle out and helped pull the still flustered samurai. Once out, he quickly sat down, facing the opposite direction, feeling confused and a little angry.  
  
He didn't bother to lift his head as the strange man stood beside him, his Hamashi rhythmically tapping against his thigh.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it. Man, you should see me in the morning." He said, throwing in a chuckle.  
  
Jack pretended not to hear that.  
  
The man tried again. "Things like these just *happen*."  
  
Jack buried his face in his hands.  
  
"Don't be such a baby about it. You listening?"  
  
No response. The other's lips thinned. Goddamn pussy. Grabbing a nearby branch, he thwacked him on the back of his head. Jack reacted.  
  
"What possessed you do something so incredibly unnecessary?" He cried indignantly, rubbing the sore spot.  
  
"To get your attention since you were so goddamn busy kissing your palms!"  
  
"Well you certainly have it now! What on earth do you want?!"  
  
Even he was surprised at the sound of his own voice.  
  
He was even more surprised to hear the other break into laughter. First it started soft, then it got louder and louder and louder to the point that he was nearly hysterical. It must've rubbed off on Jack because he started laughing too. Just.the rain, the bounty hunters, the barkeeper, the mecha, the way they were pressed together like a low-budget, Asian gay-porn flick--Everything. It was just too funny.  
  
By the time they stopped, their stomachs were so sore, they could hardly breathe, each supporting themselves on their own swords.  
  
"I was," the man gasped, "I was gonna tell you to just cool it, but I couldn't. You.you looked so constipated!" He wiped a tear before he started giggling like a ninny.  
  
Then he started coughing like crazy. Jack (calming himself at once,) raced off to his side and gave him a good karate chop to the back.  
  
"Thanks," He wheezed, "You're not such a stiff after all."  
  
"I apologize for my earlier behavior--"  
  
"--No, no, no, I completely understand." Interrupted the other, "In your time, dishonor meant death. And you've got to admit, no dishonor in something you couldn't control, right? Still, that pretty humiliating." He added that last one as an afterthought while groping for cigarettes he didn't have. He protruded his lower lip in annoyance. "But, this isn't your time, y'know?"  
  
Jack found himself agreeing with this strange strawberry man.  
  
They walked on cautiously, taking into account the sounds and vibrations coming from the giant, blue 'bot.  
  
Jack hacked away at excess vegetation. He noticed that the other man wasn't of any much help. (He was walking a few feet behind the Samurai, whistling a lively tune.) He pointed this out.  
  
"It will be a lot quicker if you help cut away loose foliage with that sword of yours."  
  
It was tucked under his arm. It stayed there.  
  
"It couldn't cut through anything with all this wrapping on." The man drawled.  
  
The entire arc-shaped blade was covered with bandages, most of which had strange symbols on them. Like mutated kanji.  
  
"Take off the wrapping, then."  
  
"Now's not the appropriate time."  
  
The answer left Jack with a hundred questions racing back and forth his head. But he thought of the old Barkeep and how frantic he was at the mere mention of the sword's name. Perhaps it was best to leave it alone in the meantime.  
  
"Are you doing anything?" the man asked suddenly.  
  
"Yes. I am single-handedly clearing a path for both of us."  
  
"I meant if you were doing some quest. Anything else aside from your repeated failures against Aku?"  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"Sorry, sorry. Are you doing anything else aside from your righteous quest to defeat the evil 'Shogun of Sorrow?'  
  
"Not particularly."  
  
"Good. I want to hire you."  
  
"I will not accept money for as long as it involves the sanctification of righteousness."  
  
What the hell? The man mentally shook his head as he continued, "Yes! In fact, it involves Aku."  
  
All crimes were, in fact, related to Aku, so he wasn't exactly lying.  
  
"Then I shall be glad to assist you." Said Jack. "Tell me, what is the purpose of your journey? I understand that you were supposed to have received something of great importance."  
  
"There's more to it." The man explained, scratching an imaginary itch on his cheek. "I'll tell you everything when we get back home."  
  
He tugged on Jack's shoulder, making him halt. He pointed to one of the egg- shaped stones barely visible beneath the overgrown shrubbery. He knelt down beside it, clearing away the moss.  
  
"Something the Yamamura clan left behind so you don't lose your way. 'Eggs of wisdom' they call 'em. Pretty fucking stupid, if you ask me. The name, I mean. Useful little thing."  
  
He tapped the side three times. The stone glowed dimly, showing the strange semi-Chinese characters again.  
  
To be continued.  
  
*~*~*  
Author's notes  
  
Yeah, yeah, I know. Not much plot development. (Or action. The kind that counts.) I was busy fanning away flies in the cemetery to think of something decent. Notice that there are less typos, which means that I am finally using Microsoft Word on a desktop computer. Nice change from the back-cramping, two gigs laptop. Now that the holidays are over, I'll have less time to write more chapters. Rest assured, I actually plan to finish this thing.  
  
Kiki Cabou ~ Thank you. There's a lot of toony background stuff that tends to be overlooked. People just need a little reminder here and there. I'm glad you like Strawberry. I never really noticed it, but now that you mention it, he does seem the type, does he?  
  
Translations of the Japanese bits:  
  
Kyoo wa otenki desu ne. Ame ga furidashita no da?  
  
-Some weather we're having today. Think it's gonna rain again tomorrow? (Actually, I made a mistake here. It's supposed to be ii tenki not otenki.)  
  
Jack: Ano...Mou ichido itte kudasai. (Uh.Could you repeat that please?)   
Strawberry guy: Soto wa sonna ni samui desu ka? (Is it still freezing outside?)   
Jack: Mou ichido, onegai. (I'm sorry. Again, please.)   
Strawberry: Soto wa sonna ni samui da. (Looks like it's cold out.)   
Jack: Motto yukkuri itte kudasai. (Please say it again. Slower this time.)   
Strawberry: So-to. Wa. So-na. Ni. Samui. Da. (It. Looks. Like. It's. Cold. Out.)   
Jack: Nihongo ga dekimasu ka? (Are you speaking Japanese.?)  
  
Hope that helped.  
  
TurtleNinja ~ Thanks. I love that old son of a Gutenthaar. Strawberry guy's more of a inconvenient look-a-like than relative. (He'll eventually get Jack into trouble that way.) Interesting guess, though. Thanks. My Japanese friends think my nihongo is horrible. I really hope I get more time to write.  
  
YT ~ Really? Cool, thanks. I've never heard of Snow Crash. Send up a link so I can add it to the list of stuff I need to read. 


End file.
